


A Winter Story

by Ruuger



Category: Angel: the Series, Mumintroll | Moomins Series - Tove Jansson
Genre: Crossover, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-24
Updated: 2010-12-24
Packaged: 2017-10-14 01:22:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/143798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ruuger/pseuds/Ruuger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spike and Angel meet a very strange demon...</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Winter Story

Angel couldn't remember the last time he'd felt this cold.

It was early December and he was standing on a field in the middle of nowhere, trying to scan the landscape with some mystical doohickey that was supposed to detect any magical disturbances nearby, but which so far had only managed to give Angel a slight headache with its constant beeping. He resisted the urge to start hopping from one foot to another to keep warm, knowing that Spike would just laugh at him if he did. He'd probably make some snide comment too, and Angel so was not in the mood for it.

When Spike turned away from him for a second, he surreptitiously switched his weight from one foot to another a few times and then swore when he felt a slippery squelch under his shoe.

"So where exactly did the witch say the horcrux was hidden?"

Angel stopped trying to wipe something unmentionable off the sole of his Armani loafer and straightened up. "Did you hit your head, Spike? We're looking for the Amulet of Trollkarl."

Spike just gave him a dull look.

"The amulet that could get Fred back?" Angel continued. "The one that holds a part of the soul of a Dark wizard?"

Spike blinked. "In other words, a horcrux."

Angel stared at Spike. Spike stared back. Their stand-off lasted for a few more seconds until Spike broke the eye-contact with a frustrated sigh.

"Have you _ever_ read anything that wasn't French and pretentious?"

"I don't-" Angel started, but Spike had already disappeared into the darkness. Cursing under his breath Angel followed him, though he had to admit that he too had started to wonder if the witch really had sent them on a fool's errand.

It was getting colder, and when Angel looked up, he saw few stray snow flakes float in the darkness above him. He allowed himself a full-body shiver and then jogged across the field until he caught up with Spike.

Suddenly there was s sound from the distance, like the cry of some large beast. Angel raised his sword and Spike mirrored his movement, both of them instinctively falling to a defensive position with their backs against each other.

A moment later the sound returned, closer this time. It was something between a howl of a wolf and whale song, but there was something in it that also made Angel think of a foghorn sounding in the middle of a sea, or a door of an abandoned building creaking in the wind. There was a certain sadness to the sound, a melancholy tone that made his heart ache with sorrow.

Something moved in the darkness, and Angel elbowed Spike to catch his attention. Shadows shifted, and a large demon appeared in front of them. It was vaguely humanoid, with beady little eyes and a mouth full of teeth and a body that resembled a pile of dark rags stuffed a frayed dress or robe of some kind. A trail of frost followed the demon, white blossoms of ice sprouting on every surface it touched.

It made a sound again, and as he prepared to defend himself, Angel suddenly found himself thinking about Connor. They hadn't seen each other since taking on the Senior Partners, and Angel couldn't help thinking that it was because Connor preferred the life he had with his other family. Thoughts of Connor lead to thoughts of Buffy who was probably out partying with The Immortal even that very moment. Both of them were better off without him. When the thoughts began to surface he couldn't stop them, images of all those he had lost, all the people he had failed to save, suddenly flashing before his eyes. He could feel his soul like a tight iron band around his chest, every sin ever he'd committed a small weight hanging from it. Individually they didn't weigh much, but put all together and he felt like the weight would crush him.

Angel glanced at Spike. The other vampire seemed just as mesmerised by the sound. His eyes were glistening, a tear falling down his cheek until the coldness turned it into a small crystal of ice. Angel found himself feeling sorry for Spike, who must be even lonelier than he was. At least Buffy had loved him, Spike hadn't had even that much. If only he could-

Angel blinked, the world suddenly returning to focus.

"It's a goddamned paranoia demon," he muttered, rolling his eyes.

He raised his sword to slay the demon when Spike stirred from his stupor and grabbed his arm.

"Don't. I don't think she wants to hurt us."

"How do you- Wait, what? _She_?"

Spike gave Angel a look that communicated very clearly without a single word that he knew more about women than Angel could ever even hope to know.

Angel rolled his eyes. "Fine. That thing is a she. How do you know that _she_ doesn't want to hurt us?"

Spike wiped his face with the back of his hand and then cast Angel an absentminded glance. "I just know. Trust me."

Angel was about to make a comment about Spike's track record on the field of trustworthiness, but before he could open his mouth, Spike stepped forward, positioning himself between Angel and the demon, and dropped his sword.

The demon howled again, and Spike nodded.

"I know what you mean," he said, as if the creature's moan had actually meant something. "You haven't by any chance seen an amulet around here? Don't know what it looks like, but it should smell like magic, if you can sense that sort of things."

The mound of darkness shifted, forming a shape like an arm. It reached towards Spike and then dark tendrils that resembled fingers peeled away, revealing a ruby almost as big as a man's fist.

Spike turned to Angel.

"You think that's the thing we're looking for," he whispered.

Angel leaned forward for a closer look - while still keeping a safe distance to the creature - and nodded. "The witch said it would be guarded by a demon."

He took a step towards the demon but before he could raise his sword, Spike spun around and shoved him away.

"And you're just going to take it? _God_ , that's so like you."

Spike gave him an exasperated look and turned to face the demon again. He didn't say anything, just dug his lighter and pack of cigarettes from his pocket, taking his time to light one. Show-off. By the time he finally spoke, Angel was considering decapitating him as a warning to the demon.

"You have something we need, but unlike Captain Bad Manners here, I don't want to take it from you by force." Spike returned his lighter and cigarettes to his pocket and then raised his hands in a placatory gesture. "Just name your price and we'll pay it. What you have there could help us save someone very special."

The demon tilted its head, its eyes gleaming in the darkness, and then made another sound. To Angel it sounded just like every other sound the demon had made, but Spike frowned and slipped his hand into his pocket. He pulled out his lighter and flicked it open. The small flame fluttered in the wind, casting odd shadows on Spike's face.

"You want _this_?" He asked, sounding confused.

The demon made a sound that appeared to be affirmative.

Spike shrugged and closed the lighter, holding out his palm. The demon glided forward, and Angel could feel the coldness radiating from it as it came closer.

A tendril-like arm reached forward again, fingers made of darkness wrapping around the lighter.

When the demon touched Spike, frost swallowed his hand, racing up his arm. Spike let out a gasp of pain but before Angel could help him, the demon let go, and the ice withdrew from Spike's arm. Spike staggered backwards at the loss of contact, stumbling over his own feet, but Angel caught him before he fell down, and helped him sit on the ground.

"You okay?"

Spike nodded, flexing his fingers, but didn't say anything. It was only now that Angel realised that he was holding something - a small pink seashell, shaped like a heart. He looked up at the demon looming above them. Its mouth twisted into a rictus of a grin, revealing a row of pearly white teeth. Then it turned around, disappearing into darkness. Where it had stood there was a patch of frost, the ruby laying in the center of it.

Angel crouched down and picked up the ruby. It was cold at touch, and Angel wrapped it in a handkerchief before putting it in his pocket. He slipped his arm under Spike's and helped the other vampire stand. He shook his head.

"What is it with you and women?"

As they made their way back to their car, they could hear the last echoes plaintive sound of the demon. Spike stopped, looking at the heart-shaped seashell he was still holding, and then made a small wave of goodbye.

"Yeah, and Merry Christmas to you too!"


End file.
